


"soon."

by ceremoany



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, I'm trying to hype myself up into writing smut, In a way, dom!cassian, just give me time, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceremoany/pseuds/ceremoany
Summary: Cassian can’t keep his tongue inside his mouth. Inspired by a scene between Lily and Lo in the Addicted series!





	"soon."

Nesta fell onto the massive balcony floor at the House of Wind as soon as Amren had winnowed them.  
Her everything hurt. She was convinced if she even attempted to tie her hair back, the warm brown tresses would scream in protest. Amren had taken Nesta’s hair band earlier as punishment to refusing to do more lunges. When she was eventually cowed into it, Amren had kept the tie anyways.  
Nesta rolled onto her stomach and groaned. The way the Illyrian leathers stuck to her drenched and overheated body was ungodly. Her feet felt like they were placed inside two small entries to hell, curtesy of the matching black boots that engulfed half of her legs as well. Dammed suffocating leather.  
She heard a few of the inner circles airy laughs as she lay on the marble floor like a beached starfish. Through the ringing in her ears, she was almost positive Cassian was making quite a few brave comments about how she should have trained with him instead of Amren.  
Not in your wildest dreams. She thought for the hundredth time.  
Nesta had decided to get on with the inevitable and start physical training. She would never admit how much she regretted not training before the war. Though she knew she would never be at the front lines of a battle —and never wanted to be— she couldn’t bare to think of anyone putting their hands on her in the intention to harm her ever again. Weather it be a man who thinks he has some type of undeserved ownership over her godsdammed body or a mad King. Thinking about caresses she did not ask for accompanied by whiskey whispers drove her to ask Amren for help. Thinking about a sword slicing into her soft flesh like a warm knife through butter had her begging Amren to not wait until after she had returned from her trip to the Summer Court in a weeks time. Amren left tomorrow but one day of training would help Nesta sleep better knowing she did something besides cower in her room like she had since they had gotten back from the Mortal Lands.  
Nesta had refused to train with Cassian for purely selfish reasons. She wanted to ignore him the way he’s ignored her. She wants him to feel the pain of their bond thrashing inside them when they aren’t near the other, the sting of the bond going loose and then taunt so violently when they consciously go without speaking to the other.  
She knew he was scared of it, the golden string that connected their very beings. But she was burning with it.  
Nesta rolled over onto her back and groaned again, hair falling over her face in a silken sheet. She didn’t bother brushing it away with her fingers so she blew a puff of air out of her mouth to clear some of it away.  
“I’ve never seen something so pathetic.” Amren told one of the members of the inner circle.  
“You’re just a shit trainer.” Nesta retorted.  
“You love me.”  
“I’ll have you know that false claims made in my name do not sit well with me.”  
“You’re a brat.”  
“Me?” Nesta cooed. She propped herself up on her elbows and immediately regretted the act. She let out a small cry and slid down onto her back once again.  
“I rest my case, witchling.”  
“We don’t know for sure that she’s—“ Feyre began but Amren simply waved her thin hand through the air to silence her.  
“I know a witch when I see one, girl. I may not know what exact type of witch your sister is, but she is a witch all the same. A part of me thinks that if I had gone to the Mortal Lands with you all while you were groveling to humdrum queens for assistance, I could have pegged Nesta for a witch right then and there. This was no random picking of the cauldron. I believe it simply enhanced what she already was, but tenfold. Why fix something that wasn’t broke?” Amren finished, almost more to herself than to others.  
Something that wasn’t broken? Oh, that’s rich. Nesta thought. She might have even let a few bubbles of laughter flit past her lips if it weren’t for Cassian shooting up out of his seat.  
“Hey, hey, hey. Enough.” He said in a tone that made Amren huff and puff her way right through the double doors into the House of Wind.  
Nesta let out a big breath of relief and closed her eyes. Cassian walked over to Nesta and put both feet on each side of her head. She snapped one eye open and she hissed at him like a viper would, she even stuck her tongue out for theatrics.  
“You are a sight for sore eyes, Nesta Archeron.”  
“Calling yourself weak, now are you?”  
“Of course not. I could look at you all day.” He said, matter of factly. “Even if you do look like you’ve been ran over by a royal carriage.”  
“How lucky of me. Not just any old horse and buggy, but a royal one.”  
“Only the best for you, babe.” Before she could snap a reply, he bent down and pulled her into his arms as if she weighed as much as a bag of sweets. With one arm under her knees and the other under the small of her back, she didn’t have much leeway to put up a fight.  
“What do you think you’re doing, you massive idiot?”  
“I thought we’d play princess and the barbarian.” Cassian said looking down on her with that trademark shit-eating grin of his.  
Nesta screamed louder in protest as Cassian laughed as if she’d just told him the funniest joke he’s heard this millennia.  
“I’m going to unlace your boots, you baby.” He said. “Unless you know your way around all of these ties and knots. I have the feeling Amren was the ones who laced them for you.”  
Nesta only scowled which prompted Cassian to laugh again.  
He went on, “If you’re having your shoes fitted before every outing, its only rational that you have them removed each time you return home.”  
Nesta could have replied with how this wasn’t her home. How this place still felt foreign and strange to her. She could have went as far as insulting Velaris itself, or Rhys and Feyre’s townhouse in which she still resided. She opted for silence instead. Something told her that if she snapped at Cassian, while she was this close to him, close enough to see the hurt in his dark green eyes, close enough to see the slight angle in which his lips turned down, it would crack her in two. Body and soul, each severed. And Gods knew Nesta’s soul was in bad enough shape already.  
So she huffed as he set her on the cream colored dais. “Like royalty. Maybe that carriage was coming for me after all.”  
He smiled at her and she could have sworn his eyes showed bewilderment.  
I still know how to joke around, you oaf. She thought.  
Didn’t she?  
“What could you have possibly done for them to mistake you for a local peasant?”  
“Mmm. Perhaps I got tourtured by a small female. Short dark hair. Quite evil. Laugh sounds like children crying.”  
“Ah, seems like that should be dealt with…” Cassian drawled, “If you can’t handle her yourself.”  
Fire flashed in Nesta’s eyes. “Just you wait. One day, I’ll be able to take on a small army of other worldly creatures all by myself.”  
“Is that so?” He was making quick work of the jungle of laces on her boots.  
“Do you doubt me?”  
“You? If anything, I overestimate you. It’s obvious by the way you’re shaking just by sitting up that you’ve got your work cut out for you, but if a creature the size of a mountain came up to you right this minute, looking for a fight, my money would be on you. Always.”  
They stared at one another for a long moment. Eyes blazing. Nesta’s face was already red from a day of physical exertion but rose petals broke out on her cheeks nonetheless.  
Cassian’s hand slid slowly up her calf and he pulled the boot off her leg, then the other.  
Cassian made a point to make eye contact with her again, as if asking permission from her to touch her once more, even though the task of her boots had been taken care of.  
Nesta was aware he was staring at her. Her eyes lay on his hands, still beside her feet.  
What a fine line they were dancing upon.  
Her heart beat like a hummingbirds and his like a stallion.  
Nesta’s heart unsure, ready to flit away with the breeze. Cassian’s heart strong and steady, knowing its desired destination.  
She peeked at him through her hair that again obstructed her vision. She tucked a few strands behind her delicately pointed ear, tip as red as her face and took a deep breath. She lifted her head and gazed into her target.  
His hands were warm as they wrapped around her. He kept one ankle locked in his grip as he moved the other slowly, so slowly, up her calf until he gripped the ditch of her knee.  
Nesta tried to keep her breathing controlled when she remembered everyones eyes. This always seemed to happen. No matter where or when her and Cassian interacted, they caused a scene.  
His eyes fixated on her small foot. Curiosity flickered in his eyes for a brief second before something else fell over his face.  
“Nesta, Amren was right. You do have the cutest feet I’ve ever seen.”  
Words escaped Nesta. Of all things. That was not what she was expecting. Her foot twitched backwards in response and his grip tightened and pulled closer, as if saying, Oh, no, you mustn’t do that. We’re still playing.  
The line they were dancing on was burning thinner by the second.  
Cassian’s mouth inched closer to where her foot was trapped in his grip. Nesta’s focus submitted to him. The eyes she was aware of around them blurred into nothing. Her vision honed in on him and controlled breathing be dammed. She felt as though her lungs had hit the floor as her breath whooshed out of her.  
Cassian’s full lips graced her soft heel before he ran his tongue up her arch. He paused at the ball of her foot as his tongue was still pressed against her skin and had the audacity to smile. He closed his lips around his tongue and placed a kiss right there.  
Nesta did not realize she’d stopped breathing. She thought she could have stayed there forever but alas, she sucked in a shaky breath and tried to work through how she would begin composing herself after something like that.  
She knew just the thing. She craned her leg back towards her, but Cassian’s grip around the back of her knee tightened and he laughed against her small foot as his eyes found hers.  
“Getting predictable on me now, babe?” He cooed.  
She felt the vibrations of his words throughout her entire body as she turned her focus towards the bond, which seemed to be buzzing with joy, saying more, more, more!  
“If you would stop licking me in odd places, I wouldn’t have to result to kicking you in odd places.” She sounded pathetically breathless and hoped the intensity of her gaze made up for it.  
Cassian let go of her foot and the golden thread connecting them screamed in protest. She felt darkness and cold winds begin to rush throughout her, licking down her limbs and freezing quickest at her chest.  
He dismissed her rage as he sighed cooly and stood. “If you wish, I can do far more interesting things with my tongue than simply lick.”  
Nesta was about to respond with how not using it at all would be the sexiest thing he’d be capable of but he leaned down and brushed a finger lightly on her leathers, right where her fourth rib on the left side was and said, “Soon.” Before turning on his heel and walking through the double doors and beyond her vision.


End file.
